Fallen
by kaoruhimura89
Summary: He is a fallen angel. To regain entry into Heaven, he must defeat the personifications of the 7 Deadly Sins. But he must also conquer his own inner demons, all while wresting with the growing feelings he has for one particular human girl.
1. His image

Author's Notes: Not meant to be religious, so take no offense to any of the content. Please R&R. Thank you. Enjoy

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki. Bow to him.

* * *

The angel was falling. Into a perpetual chasm he had been tossed, abandoned.

Falling.

Knowing what he wouldn't find, he reached for the silken familiarity that had always sprouted from his back and…

Nothing.

Falling.

The severity of his punishment was deepened by the presence of the others, the spirits known as the Damned. From out of the darkness, their tortured faces materialized and unfurled like smoke from a fire pit, welcoming the newcomer with an anguished cacophony that spoke of their undoing.

They let him see- forced him to see- the pain, the brutality, the inhumanity- or rather, the humanity- that merited their punishment. They wanted his pity, or his fear, or they wanted to thrust some of their misery onto him in an attempt to lessen theirs. And the angel did feel these things, but worse than their torment was the emptiness that pressed dreadfully up his back.

His back…

Bare. Incomplete. Falling.

There was something, however, that kept the slightest amount of hope in his heart. At the highest point of the chasm was a narrow break of light that filtered through. The angel reached for this proverbial light as if there were a possibility that he'd be forgiven and saved, perhaps even be lifted back home. As the break of light became increasingly narrower, however, and the emptiness that already stretched into eternity seemed to dreadfully stretch even more, the angel's hope sputtered out.

He was damned to fall forever.

Damned to be forever trapped in darkness and in pain among these piteous creatures who in their mortal lives had committed acts of atrocities while he…

He'd lost his faith in the Creator. Had doubted and disobeyed. Perhaps he did deserve to be here. But he was not prepared for this. For people cast into Damnation, there would never be closure, or even resignation. Suffering was all they would ever know.

Just when the last glimpse of light would seal and forever enclose him in darkness, the break widened. Golden light poured in, and from it a pair of arms descended. They grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him upward. He allowed himself to be lifted, let himself be guided towards the light until he passed the bridge of consciousness…

He came back spewing water from his mouth. He spurted and coughed and rolled onto his fours. Then, proceeded to spurting and coughing and choking some more, all the meanwhile he was distantly aware of a strange noise and something tapping (more like thudding) his back. When the last of the acrid water had been projected onto the dirt, and his breathing had slowed into an unleveled but steadier pace, he fell and spread himself onto the ground, staring dazedly at the mild sky overhead. Something like wind in a cave tore in his ear. Through it, indistinct words filtered through. The noise was most unnerving, but it was quickly forgotten when a large shape appeared overhead and blot out the sky. At first, weighed and lethargic from a near-death (or after-death) experience, he thought the person looking down at him with concern was one of his sisters.

She was cupping a side of his face, haloed by a dull shine of light behind her. She brought her face inches from his and said something he recognized as not being the language of the heavens, but a language of the earth. Upon looking closer at her face, he saw her imperfections and gaped. A scream stuck in his throat.

He sprung up, and a wave of dizziness hit him. Almost out of his own volition, he brought his forehead down onto his palm.

"Easy, there," she said, easing him to sit upright, her voice breathy by the energy she had expended on rescuing him, "you're okay now." He felt her stiffen as her hands traced something elevated up his back., and heard her gasp at what, for the briefest instant, he thought were his wings. The lack of weight on his back was enough to indicate that it was bare. In fact, all of him felt bare, exposed to a foreign atmosphere he did not exist to adapt to. A shiver ran down him, part of which had nothing to do with the weather. Afraid and not knowing what else to do, the fallen angel folded into himself, and began to pray in his language, finding that he could no longer speak it. Instead, it came out as an incoherent stream of noises. He was no longer an angel therefore he was no longer entitled to speak the sacred language. Forgetting about the girl, he wept in silent abandonment, hearing but not processing her words.

He felt her shaking and reluctant hands on his shoulders. "It's alright. You're safe now…"

He flinched away.

"I won't hurt you."

The fallen angel lifted and angled his head towards the young human, catching her eyes. They were blue, blue as the skies above, and skies he was very familiar with. Her dark hair stuck to her forehead like vines on stone, and there was a blemish on her chin that she had noticeably been picking at. From the small space between them, he could see the faint pores of her skin, traits so human and mundane he had to look away. Not that she was an unsightly creature, in fact, she was rather lovely, but he could not stomach her humanity as she was a blatant reminder of where he now permanently was. Of what he now was.

"Is there someone you'd like me to contact?"

The fallen angel stared intently at the ground. The dirt was dull and grainy, unlike the sand of his home, where each grain blinked like an individual star. He shut his eyes, shaking his head not so much as a response to her question as it was an expression of unmeasured sorrow.

"Do you speak English?" The girl asked in the language she inquired him of.

He remained silent.

"Wait here," she resumed in Japanese, "I'm going to try to find help."

He did not look up to see where she was going. He remained closed in on himself, breathing shakily as he struggled to calm his anxiety. The unnerving smell of damp earth and fish pervaded his nostrils as he inhaled, interrupting his attempt at self-composure. How odd. Though he was familiar with the countless smells particular to this world, this aroma stroked his olfactory sense differently than it had before.

Peering over his enfolded arms, his keen eyes slowly roved over his surroundings. The river ran its course in deceptive leisure, unaffected, as if his soul had not nearly been forever entombed in its waters. As he his eyes tuned into the currents of the river, the layers of the leaves, the groves carved in bark, he realized with a dawning mix of awe and dread that, along with his sense of smell, his sensory view of the world had changed. Prior to his fall, every once in a millennia the fallen one would descend onto earth and wander and muse over whichever area of the world fetched his curiosity. He'd been a foreign object then, an alien creature witnessing its complexity but never truly feeling its profundity. It was as if he had been looking through a glass door and had finally stepped over that door and was now part of it.

The fallen one all but hurriedly crawled towards the river, leaning into the water but careful not to lean too near. The water churned with dirt, smoggy like fog on windowpane, yet he could see his distorted reflection gaping back at him. He touched his face. The person gawking back at him looked similar to the being he had once known, except something was missing. The inner-light. To anyone else, the being that was frantically examining every inch of his flesh was by all rights splendid, with hair as rich as pomegranate and sun-kissed skin to die for. To him, however, it was merely a fleshy hide, no longer alight with the beautiful golden hue of his kin but dull and lackluster like the dirt beneath him.

_And the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being._

Man had been created in God's image, yet the only image his mind could fully gather was that of his surroundings, of himself, of the human that had rescued him. The Almighty's face was already fading, like a corroded photograph where the most damage was on the face of the one you'd most loved.

He cried out in anguish.


	2. His Name

I apologize for uploading the second chapter, then removing it a few days ago. Decided to make some alterations. I also aplogize for the looong haitus. You guys are what motivate me to keep writing what I may have abandoned were it not for your support. Enjoy.

/Izzy

I do not own Rurouni Kenshin

* * *

Kaoru had been deeply engrossed in the third chapter of her assigned novel when she inexplicably felt compelled to disengage from the novel and look onto the river before her.

Breaking the surface of the water had been a hand, extended towards the skies as one last desperate plea for salvation before disappearing along with the rest of its possessor. There was no moment of hesitation. She had dived into the river with the skill of an experienced athlete. She rode along the current, which had him caught adrift like a dandelion seed in the wind, his wine-colored hair splaying out like blood on water. At first glance, she thought that this person was bleeding from a fracture in their skull. To her relief, it was merely the stranger's luscious hair. She had not been in the position to appreciate said stranger's luscious hair, or any other lovely part of him for that matter, for at the moment she'd been carrying out a heroic act that she'd later account as fate. She'd taken him by the wrist and dragged him onto shore, buoyancy lessening what would've been a heavier haul in dry land, though by no means would the male in distress be considered heavy. He was rather beautiful, she thought absently as she ran along a dirt trail in hopes to find a good Samaritan- preferably a svelte male Samaritan with roughly a size 28 in men's bottom wear- that was willing to lend a stranger his pants and possibly offer a ride to the hospital/clinic- and any other form of assistance they could offer. Kaoru had ruled out calling an ambulance after she concluded he was not in life-threatening danger and was probably not insured. Also, she didn't have a phone.

She did come across a male pedestrian, though if the way his head was tilted back and the moan he made was anything to go by, he was not alone.

He was sitting behind a log among shrubbery at incline that ran towards the river. Through the foliage of weeds and branches, she could see a dark mass of hair bobbing up and down where his lap would be. She paused, but it was too late. The young man looked up with a startled expression at her.

"Crap," he said, pushing the girl away. She made an indignant squeak-like noise at the back of her throat as her lips relinquished what they'd been so diligently working on. "Uh, lady, would you mind not staring?"

Any other time she would have blushed for having just witnessed two strangers engage in filatio in person, but there were greater matters at hand and so she spoke urgently. "Um, excuse, sorry I caught you at a bad time, but I could use your help."

The man who was still facing his back towards her, turned to look at her from over his shoulder, looking perplexed.

"Something the matter?"

He stood, and despite herself, Kaoru couldn't help her eyes from veering to his fly. Thankfully, his ugly bits had been tucked in where they should be. He himself wasn't at all ugly; in fact, Kaoru thought perplexedly, he was rather hot, tall with an athletic body and a mischievous face. His girl, who was pretty hot herself, looked a bit flustered and had sex hair.

She told him what the matter was, and as if on cue, a drawn-out tortured cry resounded from somewhere in the distance. Kaoru's heart gave a jolt.

"What was that?"

She said nothing and pushed passed the couple down towards the clearing to try to get a glimpse of the beautiful stranger she'd left to wait, but couldn't see him.

"Dammit," she said, and ran back into the woods, not waiting to see if the pair would follow, though apparently the cries had convinced them enough that she hadn't been trying to play a pointless joke on them because they decided to follow along. As they ran, she gave them a very brief explanation of what had taken place minutes earlier, mentioning the raw, angry wounds on his back. She wasn't sure if they were relevant but she felt them worth mentioning.

His wounds had given her the impression of wings that had been seared off, like on a back of a banished angel. She knew that was impossible, but she couldn't help feeling the wounds had been done on purpose, perhaps as some form of retribution or sick amusement by someone. They were perfectly aligned, running down on either side of his back in parallel tracks, pink and charred third degree burns seared into his flesh. She wondered what he'd done to merit this sort of cruelty, if it was deliberate, and by whom. Perhaps he'd gotten involved with the wrong people? Gangs? Owed money? Maybe she was looking too deep into it. Maybe they'd been received accidentally, though she couldn't imagine what kind of accident would create such marks.

The narrow brook that Kaoru had crossed over came into view and she knew that they were close. She had taken note of certain distinguishable features on her venture to find a pair of reasonably fitting pants to help guide her back to the stranger, such as an oddly shaped tree or a dip in the ground. To make certain they were close, she veered out towards the river, seeking out a head of flaming red hair. Relief flooded through her system as she spotted the stunning man, though it was short-lived once she neared him and saw that he was sprawled on his back looking up at the clouded sun with a lost stare. If it weren't for the soft rise and fall of his chest, and the movements of his lips, he'd have come across as dead.

"Kuso, he's in shock" said the tall man as Kaoru kneeled by the beautiful stranger, putting her hands on either side of his face and turning it towards her. His eyes, an unusual and stunning shade of violet, were unfocused and dazed, rimmed red and puffy from weeping. His cheeks were stained with muddy trails of tears and dirt. He was mumbling something in an incomprehensive language that sounded like no other language she'd ever heard before.

"I think he's foreign," said the girl whose name Kaoru still did not know. "Maybe he doesn't understand us."

He indeed looked foreign, but he was not an ethnicity she could pinpoint.

"Do guys have vehicle we can transport in?"

"No, we came by bus."

"Alright, then call a cab ride please."

"Wouldn't an ambulance be best?"

"No. I don't think his injuries are life-threatening, and I have a friend who can help us."

Kaoru knew from experience how absurdly expensive an ambulance was, and though his wounds were an ugly sight, it was best they consulted Megumi before going to a hospital. Hospitals these days were not very reliable.

The lost look in the stranger's eyes began to fade into a more focused one, and as they looked straight into Kaoru's own eyes, they revealed a profound sadness and agelessness that Kaoru found both heartbreaking and mesmerizing. He grabbed her palms and slid them away, turning his face from her.

"Leave… me be," said the crimson-haired stranger in Japanese. His voice was low and pained, a faintly accented voice that was pleasant to the ears even when tinted with hurt.

"Hey, man, we're not gonna hurt you. We're trying to help," said the other man, beginning to remove his pull-string pants. "Here," he stripped down to his boxer-briefs, offering them like a token of goodwill, "You can have these."

The beautiful stranger did not look up. His eyes were closed and he had begun mumbling again in what seemed like a prayer. Kaoru began to wonder if the man had ever fully sane.

She knelt by him again, averting her eyes from the reproductive appendage that was in full view. She tried not to stare at it.

"Hey, what's your name?" She asked as kindly as she could.

"Please, leave me alone."

What happened to you? She wanted to ask, but she felt that the answer may be too traumatic for him to recount. There was more to his story than nearly having drowned to death. His wounds, his nakedness, the loss and despair set on his bearings. His sadness was nearly tangible, as if his hurt were brushing up against her very heart. The moment his eyes had met hers, she had felt something transfer from him to her, a palpitation, torment that washed over her.

"Oh no," said the tall man, "We're not gonna leave you alone here sprawled naked and with a possible concussion. Take my pants."

The tall man walked over to the red-headed man and placed them on his palm. Kaoru thought of the sexual act of indiscretion she had witnessed him engage in minutes earlier and really, really hoped that none of the residue from said act ended up on the pants.

"You can go commando if you like, but either way, we're taking you home," said the tall man.

"The cab should be here in a few minutes."

"Dress. We can look away if you like." Kaoru surmised that getting dressed in front of three strangers, two of which were female, would be very awkward for the man. Not that being naked in front of random people wasn't already generally awkward.

The stranger looked at them as if he hadn't a clue what they were for, or didn't want anything to do with them.

"Alright," he finally said.

/

Unfortunately, the fallen angel wasn't quite sure how to put one of these unnatural coverings on. Back in his homeland there had been no need for any garments to cover their beautiful bodes. Sexual desire was absent among his kin, and there was no shame in nudity. As the children of Adam and Eve, the first pair of Homo sapiens who had eaten the forbidden fruit and thus punished to become ashamed of their own mortal bodies, it was no surprise that they wanted him to cover up before taking him to wherever it was they planned on taking him. He heard the word "hospital" mentioned, which he knew meant a facility where they treated the ill and dying. He had no desire to go there.

What _did _surprise the angel, to his horror, was that he did feel that shame in his body now as he was. Not so much from the condition of his body but for the simple fact of being _naked_.

He proceeded into slipping one leg into an opening and then nearly tripped over when he tried slipping in the other. Once he had successfully done that, he looked down confused at the strings wrapping the hemline of the pants. He tugged at them. They were a bit loose on him.

Then, disregarding that a cab (a vehicle, correct?) was on its way, he lay back down without a word and passed out.

/

For some strange reason, he felt as if he were in motion, though he couldn't be since, as he recalled with dreadful resignation, he no longer had any wings and he certainly was not walking. A rumbling sensation passed over him as his heavy lids opened. He was sitting down, his uncomfortable leaning against something solid, and once his eyes were fully open, he saw that through a small and smudged windowpane the world passed him by. He bolted upright, craning his head closer to the window in astonishment. Then whipping his head at the direction of the person who had spoken to whom he presumed was him.

"How are you feeling?" Kaoru said. The beautiful man just blinked and gaped at her with a confused expression on his face.

"How… How did I get here?"

"Sanosuke, the man from earlier, carried you into a taxi after you passed out."

"Hey, dude, how ya feelin'?" The other man said from the other side of the young woman. He thought there had been two females, unless his memory was failing him as it was likely to be. A man unfamiliar to him was conducting from the front seat of the vehicle, a monitor with ever shifting numbers attached next to the steering wheel.

"Passed out?" He wasn't quite sure what she meant by the phrase.

"Yeah. You fell asleep shortly after you dressed."

He remembered dressing and then laying down on the sand to rest. Then nothing.

"You've had a rough day, haven't you?" said the man with the wild hair.

The fallen one didn't reply. Instead, he looked out the window. The landscape moved passed him in what seemed to him lethargic streaks when compared to his own flight, when he could fly. Would he ever fly again? That would be impossible. He had never known a fallen sibling to reenter the heavens, and he did not find himself so special that he would be the exception to this rule.

An ache thrummed between his temples. His whole body was torpid, aching. He'd never felt this tired. This miserable. This alone.

In Paradise, there was no suffering. There was no wrong. He had been the wrong one, and he had paid.

Along their journey, the fallen angel saw many things. He saw mostly man-made architecture, industrial buildings and steel-wrought framework, vehicles such as the one he currently rode in, ranging from the most downtrodden to the flashiest of models, all in different shades of ugly. He saw people. They came in a variety of color, of sizes and shape and texture. He knew that no one person was alike, that God made everyone unique and special and beautiful in their own way. And as for the angels, they too had not been made as clones of one another, yet they were all uniform, a matching set, unlike the humans, who were so much more distinctive, unperfected.

"So, hey, Red. You never told us your name."

The angel did not hear this at first. He continued to look out the window, ruminating. It wasn't until he felt a non-too gentle tap on the shoulder that he realized he was being addressed to.

"Your name," said the man named Sanosuke, who had reached over the young woman to tap him and was not was him with an inquisitive stare.

"Hey, watch it." The girl made an annoyed face, and pushed him back to his seat, shielding her chest.

"Oops, sorry." He resumed his attention to the fallen one. "So, what's your name? I'm Sagara Sanosuke." He said this with a genuine grin stretched on his face.

"And I'm Kaoru Kamiya." Kaoru smiled and bowed her head briskly. They both looked at him expectantly.

The fallen one considered the question. His name? He had a name, yes, but that was in the language of the heavens. There was no translation for it, no accurate enunciation of syllables. The archangels and the lesser angels who made themselves known to human had been assigned names so that mortals could speak and record them in their scripture. But the rest of them, the ones who watched them at a distance, they had no other name but ones that to mortal ears would ring as mellifluous notes rather than a harsh formation of syllables.

"My name," he started, grappling for a name he thought befitting for him. He remembered the kanji he once saw on a tombstone, a name meaning heart of sword. He'd liked the name for its sound and meaning, and the similarity to his own title as a warrior of the heavens. Before his fall, he'd been a guardian of heaven, wielding his glorious sword to ward off evil, corruption, and malady. Like his wings, his swords had also been taken away from him at his banishment.

"My name is Kenshin." The fallen angel did not consider this a lie, for if he was start life over as a mortal in the country called Nippon, he rationalized, than a new name was appropriate for his rebirth. He was someone else now, no longer entitled to his old identity.

"Kenshin, huh?" said the man named Sanosuke, surprise in his tone. "We were debating if you were a foreigner or not."

"Sssh," said Kaoru, "Don't be rude." She turned to him, her eyes studying his visage as if searching for something, then blushed and smiled shyly at him, a side of her lips more tilted upwards than the other, lending it a sort of charm.

Kenshin returned the smile, a smile tainted with sadness. Kaoru's smile had made him feel, for the briefest of moments, inexplicably blissful.

Sanosuke did most of the talking along the way, while the navigator of the taxi haphazardly wove his way around traffic. Kaoru asked him in a terse tone if he could please drive more carefully before we all have to be seen by a doctor. Eventually, they made it in one piece. Or at least, they made it in the same condition they had been before mounting the vehicle. The cab driver announced precisely how much the cab ride would cost them, and Kaoru fought back the urge to complain.

"Wanna split?" Kaoru asked Sanosuke, though it was less a question and more of a hint that they should split since, well, the stranger was obviously penniless, and the other girl, whose name she found out was Itsuki, had already contributed her share when she was dropped off at her apartment.

Sanosuke turned in his seat, flashing her a chagrin smile. "Actually, I'm pretty broke right now. I'll pay you back later, if I ever get to see you again."

Kaoru held back from scolding the rooster-head for Kenshin's sake, and ferociously handed the cab driver the amount owed.

Kaoru helped Kenshin out, offering her hand, which he took hesitantly. His hand was warm and, for being a man, atypically smooth. He dragged his feet, walking lethargically.

The Takani Family Clinic looked less like a clinic and more like a home, and that was because it had been a home before being converted into a place for the lower-income infirm. Megumi cared more about helping people than in making money, which was why she was not a wealthy doctor as one would assume a doctor to be.

A bell rang when they walked in, and behind a counter stood a young woman Kaoru recognized from her previous visits. She normally welcomed Kaoru somewhat cheerfully, but upon seeing the two attractive half-naked men in her company, she paused.

"Hello, Natsu. Is Megumi in today?"

"Oh, yes, but she's with a patient right now. Do you have an appointment?" As she spoke, she did not look at Kaoru but instead looked at Sanosuke and Kenshin- especially Kenshin.

"No, this is somewhat urgent. Will she be done soon?"

"Not for another twenty minutes. If it's an emergency, you should-"

"We'll wait." Kaoru said a little too curtly. Natsu was going to suggest going to a hospital, despite her being aware of how much Kaoru disliked hospitals. Bad experiences, bad memories. No hospitals for her, thank you. "But can you let her know we're here."

Natsu nodded and cracked open a door that read Dr. Takani on the glass, speaking to the person on the other door from the threshold. Kaoru heard a muffled voice that was sultry even when obstructed by a door.

"She'll be right with you. Have a seat, please."

They waited for a few minutes until a gaunt middle-aged man emerged, an attractive woman with cherry lipstick and perfect hair following after him.

"Now, remember, twice a day with a meal. Call me if you have any other further questions. Take care, Tanaka-san. Kaoru-san," said Megumi, looking at her and also noticing the other two men sitting on the bench, "What happened?"

Kaoru gave a story similar to what she had told Sanosuke, while Kenshin morosely sat and intently stared and the checkered tile floor while Sanosuke intently stared at Megumi.

"Kami-sama!" Megumi said when she saw the burns on Kenshin's back. "How did this happen to you?"

Kenshin said nothing.

"Come in here," Megumi motioned, holding the door out for them. "Sit here."

Kenshin sat on the bed slowly. He appeared to be in a state of shock, his eyes unseeing. No, not unseeing, but scared.

The attractive doctor allowed Kaoru to stay and briskly sent off Sanosuke to wait in the visitor's room, which he was not too happy with, then immediately got to work.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Kaoru-san," said Megumi as she scrubbed her hands in the sink.

"Oh, you know, busy with school and work and all that."

"I know how that is. Now, let's take a look here." Megumi furrowed her eyebrows, "they are definitely burns. They appear to be healing but," she grabbed a jar from her cart, "they will need to be treated to prevent infection."

Not being able to help herself, Kaoru took a closer look at his wounds, and noticed that they were not as raw as they had looked before. They were two long streaks of puckered red flesh.

His wounds were treated with a special ointment Megumi's father had concocted to fight infection and scarring, her dexterous hands applying the mixture as gently as she could. She then bandaged him up, wounding the fabric around his torso and back. Seeing that he was barefoot (a detail Kaoru was ashamed to have forgotten, but was excusable on account that she was more concerned with covering his exposed genitalia), Megumi gave him a pair of clogs she had reserved for patients who stayed overnight at the clinic.

"Come see me in a few days. I would like to see how the wounds are coming along. I don't believe they are life-threatening, but you do run a risk of infection so you must be very careful. Take these," she handed him a bottle of pills. "Twice a day with each meal. Eat well and drink plenty of water. Things you should be doing anyway," she smiled, "Refrain from any strenuous activity for now, and do not bathe unless under supervision and it must only below the wait. Take care, Ken-san."

"Thank you."

"Hey, you're looking better, Kenshin," said Sanosuke, walking up to them from the bench where he had been lounging with his legs greedily stretched over the bench's length. "Thanks, doc."

Megumi's lifted an eyebrow. "You're welcome, sir."

"Heh. It's Sanosuke. Sagara Sansouke. Nice to formerly meet you."

"Likewise. Takani Megumi." Megumi responded. She offered her hand, and he took it. Kaoru smirked and thought, they'd make a cute couple. Except that he was a deadbeat, a likeable one at least.

"Kaoru-san, you also take of yourself."

"Thank you, Megumi-san. About the expenses-"

She waved her off. "Another time. Just concentrate on getting Ken-san home."

They said their goodbyes and left the clinic, Sanosuke being the first to depart out of the three.

"Well, I'll be on my way home. I don't live too far. Amazing how I've passed this place many a time and have never spotted her. Now I know where to come when I'm injured." He said that with an insinuation of being interested in something other than his physical wellbeing. "Nice meeting you Jou-chan, Kenshin. Maybe I'll see you guys around. Actually, I live right off down this road. It's the only depilated house around this area. I live with three other people, but I never see 'em around."

"Yes, well, it was nice meeting you too. Thanks for your help."

"No problem."

"Yes, thank you," said Kenshin.

"Anytime, man." The taller man gave the shorter man a playful (if rough) tap on the shoulder. "Maybe I'll see you guys around sometime, if it's in the cards, I hope. Later."

Kaoru watched Sanosuke with a fascinated curiosity of the kanji sign for "bad" on the back of his shirt. He didn't seem like such a bad guy. A bit cocky and crude but not bad. He had given a complete stranger his pants and was walking around in boxer shorts because of it, and didn't seem to give a damn.

"Now, Kenshin, we should get you home. Is it within walking distance or will public transportation be necessary?"

Kenshin considered, and he considered longer to what should be an easy question. "I can walk."

Kaoru fidgeted with her finger, looking at his bare feet. People who passed them stared, especially at him. "Would you like me to come along?"

"Kaoru-dono," he took her hand, and kissed it. Her face flooded with heat, and the spot where he had kissed her felt warm as if his lips were still upon it. Her legs felt suddenly liquid.

"I am deeply grateful for all the generosity and kindness you have given this unworthy one, but I'm afraid we must part ways. Sayanora." He gave her a smile, a lovely, melancholic smile, and walked away.

She wondered if she'd ever see him again.


	3. Rakuninmura

Another relatively short chapter. Sorry about that. Enjoy and please R&R!

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"_The ones who have turned their backs on the era… and the ones whom the era turned its back… Repelled by society and forgotten by the world, before long they naturally fell in together... The settlement beyond the bounds… Rakuninmura… This is the final territory for those who have thrown away life."_

_-From Vol. 24, Chapter 208 of Rurouni Kenshin, a Meiji Romance Story_

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How Kenshin ended up in Rakuninmura was not by mere coincidence, though one may take it to be. After parting ways with the kind human girl, Kaoru, the fallen angel had eventually wandered from the residential area into the city, where he aimlessly carried on his trek without any idea or care where he was going. He wore only pull-string pants and thin hospital shoes that, given the long distance he'd been walking, were taking a toll on his feet. He paid no mind to the people who stared at his beautiful yet disheveled form. His mind was elsewhere. He was aware of the insistent growling in his stomach; loudest whenever his nostrils caught a whiff of indiscernible aromas exuding from the restaurants he passed by. So this is what hunger is like. Without any form of currency on him, he could not buy any food, nor did he want to. All he wanted was to keep moving until his body collapsed as it had hours earlier by the river. Towards nowhere and no one. Towards oblivion.

He came upon Rakuninmura just as his muscles felt they would give in. Located in the outskirts of the city, Rakuninmura was a place where the most despondent of men inhabited. Women and children were forbidden to live among them. Nearly fifty years had passed since the third wave of global war had hit, and the aftereffects were still visible. Passing the dilapidated sign reading "Rakuninmura," Crowd of the Fallen People, Kenshin dragged his feet into the residence without hesitation. Except…

"Hey, you. What's your business here?"

Several dozen men had surrounded him, each armed with an item of sorts presumably to be used as weapons.

"What's your business here," the voice repeated, "speak."

Kenshin looked around the crowd, unable to pinpoint the source of the voice.

"Hey," a man came up to him, a man taller and bigger than he. His clothes were dirty and he emitted a strong, unpleasant body odor.

"I'm tired," said Kenshin, his voice barely audible.

Something passed over the man's face, and he made no further action to stop him.

"Let him pass."

They parted, some shaking their heads, others nodding. Some made comments such as "he's too pretty," or "what's up with the hospital shoes," while others merely stared at the new addition to their pathetic community. Like the other man, these men were all similarly dirty and disheveled.

Kenshin sat down and leaned against to the structure furthest away from the entrance, a windowless edifice made of salvaged materials.

The day had dimmed to a hazy purple, bringing with it a crisp, chill that made his skin goose. The chill goosed his bare chest and arms, but he was too exhausted to fully mind.

He closed his eyes, and let himself be swallowed by oblivion.

_A face grinned at him through the fires. _

_It said, "Hello."_

Kenshin screamed himself awake. At some point, he had stretched himself on the ground, because that was the position he found himself in. Alarmed pigeons ruffled their wings.

A garment that he hadn't noticed was draped on him slipped off as he sat up. It was a coarse blanket.

"Bad dream? I used to have those all the time"

The source of the voice was an old man of what he gaged to be about 70. His hair was completely white, including his impressively long facial hair, and he had wrinkles that lined his skin like folds on a cloud. On the bridge of his bulbous nose rested bifocals, shielding his eyes with their reflective plates. His smile was amiable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You happened to choose my preferred spot for feeding my pigeons."

Several pigeons were eagerly pecking at their feed on the ground, making content noises as they did. One curiously tilted its head at him before diving its beak close at his feet.

"You made a wise choice to lie beneath the shade. Otherwise you'd have woken up with a pretty bad sunburn."

Kenshin looked up towards the sun. It was brighter than it had been yesterday. How menial a thing it was compared to the rest of the worlds, and yet its importance to this world was grand.

"So… You hungry?"

Kenshin looked back at the old man. The old man waited for a response.

A growl came from the inside of his stomach.

"Ah, of course you are! Here," the old man rummaged the inside of his dirty, tattered jacket, producing something round and beige.

"Not much, but it'll be enough to fill ya until we go out looking for some grub later tonight."

Tentatively, Kenshin took the loaf of bread from the old man. Sniffed it, took a bit. Or tried to anyway. The crust was like biting through what he imagined would be like biting through a rock, albeit he was fairly certain he was exaggerating. Nonetheless, he bit through it. Chewed. Took another bite and chewed some more, each time more eagerly and easily than before, until eventually he forgot the chewing part and began to quaff down the bits of crude bread.

"Easy there, or you'll choke."

Kenshin choked.

"Didn't I tell you," said the old man, handing him a canteen full of water. Kenshin grabbed it and let the water ease the bread down his throat.

"I take it that had been your first meal in a while."

Kenshin gave a nod.

"I wish I'd had found something better but the store owners shooed me away before I could take my pick. That's why it's always better to go diving after dark."

Found something better from where, thought Kenshin.

"Have you not had anything to eat?" Kenshin now realized that he may have eaten the only thing that the old man had to offer.

"Oh, so you do talk! Why, yes, I snagged a half-eaten sandwich right as I saw a pedestrian toss it away."

Poverty pushes people to make desperate choices. How very lamentful.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

The old man's gaze was disarming. A toothless grin followed.

"That, young lad, was a look a pity."

"No, I…"

"No point in denying it, young lad. I know that look better than the palm of my hand. I get it every day when I go into the city. But those looks of pity come from people better off than me, not by people who are in the same situation as I."

"I meant no offense."

"Of course you didn't," he said this without any hint of sarcasm in his voice, "What worries me is how a young, good-looking fella came to be in this place when it's apparent you don't belong here."

Kenshin looked down at his feet. He still had on the pair of the incredibly ugly footwear.

"No? I can't imagine a will to do bad out of you."

Kenshin made no response but to close his eyes. He could feel the weight of the old man's gaze on him. He wondered why such a cheerful, kind man was in a place such as this one.

"The world has no need for a weak old man like me. But here, here I am needed."

"Hey Old Geezer!" exclaimed a gravelly voice from a short distance, the sound of feet running through dirt accompanying it. "I caught us some lunch." The man who ran up to them wasn't someone Kenshin had seen upon his arrival. Then again, he hadn't really noticed any of them. He presented the old man with the body of a mangled, bloody rodent which he held from it furry tail. A coarsely-fashioned arrow protruded from its head.

"Ah, wonderful! Would you mind if I shared my portion with this young lad right here."

The rodent man eyed Kenshin. "It's up to you, Geezer."

Geezer is a very odd name, thought Kenshin.

"I appreciate it, Aito."

Aito nodded and left, giving Kenshin a second look before leaving with his demised lunch.

"He's a good man. Most folks here are suspicious of anyone who enters Rakuninmura, but eventually they warm up. Or as much as a bunch of fallen men can warm up to anyone. Well, young lad, my legs are getting rather stiff from sitting here this long. I'm going to go do something productive, like play chess with some friends. I'll come with some lunch for you. Then, we'll go out and get ourselves some real food."

Kenshin stayed just where he was.

Geezer eventually did return as promised, holding a ceramic item.

"There's your share. The heart and liver. It's good for you. Lots of iron and protein."

Kenshin took the offering. He stared at the morsels on the ceramic plate. The heart was immediately discernible, a small burgundy pouch. The liver was about the same size, and looked just as unappetizing. The smell was rank, yet his stomach reacted with eagerness. He had never eaten flesh. It is forbidden to eat the flesh of a living being that could feel pain. He had always found humans barbaric for eating the vast amount of meat that they did. Some ate meat out of necessity, others out of shear gluttony.

"You look like you're rather torn about eating it, there. The heart and liver are a crude meat, I know, but there was no much else left of that squirrel. If you want I'll trade you my piece for yours."

Geezer held out his hand for his plate and position the plate with his other hand so that Kenshin could take it.

Kenshin gave him his plate but did not take the other.

"I cannot eat this, but thank you."

"Are you a vegetarian? Well I'll be darned. The vegetarians I know are usually forced vegetarians 'cuz they don't have any money to afford meat! Well, more for me, I guess. Don't worry, we'll be leaving soon enough. I just hope you have enough strength in you to join me."

As it turned out, he didn't. The Geezer had been disappointed, but nonetheless promised him to bring him back some food if he promised him he would accompany him for the next trip, which Kenshin found out was a desperate or resourceful (depending how you looked at it and who was doing it) practice called dumpster diving.

"It's not as disgusting as it sounds. You have to be really smart and careful about the items you select and where you select them. It's a talent only a few of us have, so that's why you have team leaders. There is also the manpower; those who help carry the stuff. You'd be the manpower, and also the apprentice. You seem like a really smart man. I'm sure you'd get the hang of it and become a team leader soon enough."

Kenshin doubted that.

"I'm off now. I'll try to save you some good stuff. Unfortunately, it's those who go that get the first pick. I'll be back in about two hours."

He paused, considered him, and said, "We also need to get you some new clothes. You're perfectly sculptured abs are making a lot of self-conscious." Geezer departed with merry laughter.

Kenshin remained in the same spot he had been since his arrival. His bottom was starting to ache from the long hours of sitting, as did the rest of him. Sitting was preferable to walking. His whole body felt like bricks. People left him alone for the most part. Some villagers passed him by and shot him curious glances, pitiful looks, or suspicious glares. They varied in age, some as young as ten and others as old as Geezer. Most were middle-aged men who looked like they'd seen a lifetime of events.

A shadow the size of a boulder loomed over Kenshin. The kanji for _ebisu_, barbarian, glared at him, etched on an a globular expanse of flesh. Above him, lips pulled back into an eerily cheerful smile revealed a row of perfectly white and large teeth. Said smile belonged to an unintelligent face round with portly cheeks. Somehow a goofy, guttural chuckle leaked through the clamped down teeth. Two small, lightless eyes looked down at him.

"Hi," said the obese man, scratching his belly with a sausage-like finger. His left hand held a pouch.

Not knowing what to say, Kenshin just blinked at astoundingly fat person.

"I'm Iwanbo." Without a warning, he plopped himself right next to him, pebbles bouncing off the ground when his enormous bottom hit the ground. In fact, Kenshin himself was temporarily elevated from the floor.

Save for the nasally, heavy breathing of the obese man, they sat side by side in silence, Iwanbo's disarming smile never wavering. After a few seconds, Kenshin turned his head slowly at the large man, and then turned it back to staring straight ahead.

At that moment, Kenshin learned what humans meant by awkwardness. .

"Hey."

Kenshin involuntarily jerked at the word.

"I brought some food."

In a flourish, the ordinary pouch was spread out to reveal an exquisite banquet teeming with fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, cheeses, meats, and other dishes from ethnically diverse cuisines. They were all set in sparkling platters of gold and silver, with a fountain spouting what appeared to be the human invention of chocolate at the center of it all. His stomach growled in response, louder than it had the previous time.

A fleshy hand reached for a plate filled with a creamy spread over crackers garnished with thin slices of… some type of raw meat, probably fish. Iwanbo tilted the plate, and down came an avalanche of appetizers into his mouth. He devoured them all with a single swallow. He chuckled and grabbed another plate, this one holding cubicles of ham and various kinds of cheese. Expensive-looking cheese.

"Here," said Iwanbo, his teeth shiny with spit, "have some."

Although Kenshin's hunger was tearing at his insides, Kenshin hesitated to reach for the food offered to him. This man had materialized out of nowhere, and though he could sense no malice in him, there was something severely disconcerting about his smile. Also, meat was something that he just could not…

"Eat," said Iwanbo, flicking a morsel into Kenshin's mouth so speedily that he hadn't noticed until the saltiness exploded in his tongue. Kenshin moaned and chewed at the cube of ham. He took another one, and then another one and another one until the entire plate of oeuvres was gone.

No further goading was made by the obese man. Kenshin tore at a loaf of bread, then took a bite out of an apple, and then shoved something he wasn't sure what to call but was absolutely delightful. Saltiness and spiciness and sweetness flooded his mouth, fired his taste buds. Remembering what had happened earlier when he had inhaled the loaf of bread and choked from not chewing, Kenshin, despite his ecstasy, cherished every bite of every food he sampled and devoured. He didn't know what some of the things he was eating were. They were dishes that did not exist at home. At home, food was unnecessary to survive. To eat was to participate in innocuous pleasure. An angel required no sustenance. Although most angels did eat at some point, it was always natural foods, and never, ever any meat.

As Kenshin stuffed his face with anything edible and in his immediate reach, Iwanbo looked on with that gleaming smile plastered on his fat face. His smile became a chuckle, a stupid chuckle, an evil chuckle, a chuckle that sounded as if it had been fashioned by Satan himself. And it was.

"I've got you," said Gluttony as he regarded his oblivious target with gleeful glowing white eyes.

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For those who aren't familiar with the Jinchu arc, SPOILER ALERT! Don't read beyond this sentence... Anyway, for those who are, you know that Iwanbu turns out to be a puppet created by Gein. For the story's purpose, he is somewhat a puppet, but more of a living one than a mechanical one, fashioned by Satan, not Gein. I'll try to get the next chapter asap, since I know more or less where I'm going with the next chapter.


	4. Guardian Angel

As some of you wanted, some KenKao moments, finally. Sorry for the lack of them in the last one, but it was necessary for plot development. Still, it's not too fluffy.

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Taking one last bite out of the strawberry-filled layered triple chocolate cake, Kenshin collapsed onto his back, hands spread on his bloated belly. His stomach erupted with a growl, excessively full. His ribcage felt as if was compressing his heart, an aching, almost burning sensation plaguing his chest.

_So this is heart burn_

Dark blue covered the sky, the stars lost from sight, the moon at a waxing, weak phase. He had never eaten like that, with so much desperation, with so much glee and gluttony. It had been an ecstatic experience, beyond satisfying. Shame now replaced that delight, and so did a painful stomachache and heart burn. That man Iwanbo, he was responsible for this. He sat up, and found that Iwanbo was nowhere in sight. He had been so enraptured with the feast that he had forgotten about the enormous man with equally enormous smile. The banquet, or rather the leftovers, along with everything else that had appeared out of the sack had also disappeared. Any evidence of the feast Kenshin had consumed was smeared around his mouth and stained his pants, pants that were actually not his.

Kenshin looked around. A few men were engaged in a game of cards, some were in conversation, but the majority were either inside their homes or perhaps out participating in that dumpster diving activity Geezer had informed him about. Had they not noticed him gorging himself on all that food? Surely, men in their impoverished condition would have not been silent about a person enjoying a feast that could feed fifteen people.

Geezer came back later than night, handing him his share of food. Kenshin declined, and remained silent for the rest of the night until he fell asleep.

"Usually, people just pretend like we're not there, but you're quite the showstopper," said Geezer in that cheerful tone of his.

Wearing only Sanosuke's stained pants, hospital clogs, and the raggedy blanket Geezer had lent him wrapped around him to hide his scars, Kenshin kept his eyes on his feet. The day following the appearance and disappearance of the perturbing Iwanbo character, Geezer had persuaded Kenshin into accompanying him into the city, where they were to get "new" clothes for Kenshin from a donation box in which people discarded their unwanted garments and other miscellaneous objects for other people to salvage. Geezer had noticed the stains on Kenshin's pants, and had inquired him about them. Kenshin merely looked at him and said nothing, not wanting to lie or tell the truth. The truth was too bizarre and shameful, and a lie was immoral. He wondered how humans were able to do either without feeling ashamed.

Today, the weather was mild, a pale blue coloring the sky. Kenshin had asked Geezer what day it was, and when Geezer had responded with "Why, it's Thursday." Kenshin then asked the month and day, and found out it was the 21st of September. He did not ask for the year because he knew what year it was. It was the year he had decided to take action, and the year that he was banished as a result for those actions. Besides, it would be very odd if somebody who is supposed to be sane asked for the year.

Without make eye contact, Kenshin watched the humans through a peripheral view, noting the differences and similarities among that species, how they all seemed to be adherent to modern conventionality in both etiquette and appearance. They walked without greeting each other, their eyes downcast or directly in front of them, with several glancing his and Geezer's direction, but otherwise uninterested in the activity around them. Most were dressed in modern Western clothing, the traditional raiment of Nippon absent among the crowd he passed, though he knew that some did dress traditionally on occasion, or in rarer cases, every day.

Kenshin could not gage how long they had been walking. He guessed hours, though to say how many hours was an impossibility for the fallen angel, who had lived an eternity void of the perception of human time.

"Ah, here we are!"

Geezer had stopped in front of a shop emitting nauseatingly delicious aromas. Kenshin was still sick from all the food he had consumed, and felt as if he would never eat again in his entire mortal life, however long that would be.

Large, bold letters painted in various colors and fonts that spelled Rough Times Café were on the brick surface right above the door.

"We'll grab some breakfast while we're at it."

Without further notice, Geezer opened the door of the shop. Kenshin followed, loathing and delighting in the different aromas mingling in the air. Some people glanced over at them with incuriosity, and quickly resumed to their meals. A young woman with long, braided hair looked up from behind a counter, and smiled widely when she saw Geezer.

"Geezer! So good to see you. I'll be with you in just a moment."

"No need to hurry, Misao-chan. We'll just wait here on the bench until you're finished."

The girl named Misao directed her gaze at Kenshin, her eyebrows shooting up. She had a ring encircling her left nostril, and a tattoo of water lily on her right wrist. Slowly, she redirected her gaze to the man she was attending, shifting from curiosity to courtesy.

Except for the kitchen that was visible to everyone, the inside of the café was lit only by the sunlight pooling through the windows. The walls were painted dark colors, decorated with modernist paintings of people and things that weren't very discernible, or pleasing to the eye, Kenshin though. The tables and chairs were mismatched, and some of the material of the chairs and booths was spilling out from tears like open wounds. What was most interesting was the people. They had the most peculiar of looks. A man in line had hair like black vines, embellished here and there with multicolored beads and strings. His clothes were similarly as grungy as the clothes the residents of Rakuninmura wore, except his looked purposely shabby and cleaner than their filthy rags. The woman behind him had short spiky hair dyed blue, and wore a denim vest with spikes on the shoulders and all kinds of patches inscribed with words on them. One of the patches displayed the inverted cross, which made Kenshin curl his lip in disgust. A young man passed by, dressed all in black and with plugs in his ears that reminded Kenshin of the tribal people he had long ago seen in South America. All the customers seemed to have a distinctive look about them, as if they intentionally defied the Western-influenced, modern conventional standards of appearance Kenshin had noted during his last trip most Japanese humans to conform to… Most humans of every country and cultural background, really. Yet, this subcultural mode of dress seemed to be yet another influence of Western-origin, infused with elements of other cultures, such as the twisted locks of hair dating back from North Africa, and forms of body modification that, when first viewed upon by European settlers, were seen as barbaric and heathenish, and now were more widely accepted, depending on the age of the person, body part, style, size, and other factors. Kenshin had ceased being awed long ago by the shifting style of appearance in humans of very part of the earth, but there was something fascinating about the intentional deviancy in the aesthetic of the subcultural youth. Watching them was like spotting a patch of grass among snow, brazen and resistant.

Geezer must have noted Kenshin's scrutiny. "This here is a punk café. All kinds of characters come in here. Punks, hippies, metalheads, you name it. No one here judges you. Well, except maybe some of the hipsters."

The young lady finished helping her last costumer for the time being and called them over.

"Busy today, Misao-chan?" Geezer propped an elbow on the counter, leaning casually against it.

"It's steady today. Not too slow, not too busy. Who's this?"

She flashed her big, aquamarine eyes towards Kenshin.

"This here is… Well, actually, I don't even know his name yet! What is your name, young man?"

They both looked at him expectantly.

"Kenshin."

"Ah, Kenshin," said Geezer.

Misao stared in awe. "Kenshin? Really?

Just then, the door jingled. Misao turned her attention to the person who had just entered.

"Hi Kaoru-san!"

At the sound of the name, Kenshin whipped his head towards the direction of the person being addressed to.

Eyes as blue as the skies above blinked at him. Kaoru

"Kenshin," she said, her expression as astonished as he felt. A most peculiar sensation within his chest occurred as she neared him, a rhythmic pound against his ribcage that echoed in his ears. The clothing she currently wore differed from the simple ensemble she had been wearing the day they met. A floral-patterned dress that reached just above the knee draped over her thin figure, and she wore a forest green cardigan. Thin magenta-colored tights concealed her legs, and over those were socks in varying shades of gray that peeked over a pair of brown ankle boots. She still had a ponytail, tied now with an indigo ribbon. The only visible piercings she had were on either side of her ears. Somehow the multicolored pieces all managed to look cohesive on her.

"Kaoru, is this the guy you were telling me about?" Misao asked her from behind the counter.

Kaoru nodded her head, her attention still on Kenshin. "Yes, this is him. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Ah! What a small world this is," said Geezer.

Kaoru broke from Kenshin's gaze to look at Geezer, and then back at Kenshin. "Do you two know each other?"

"Well, we just met yesterday," responded Geezer for him.

Kaoru eyed him quizzically. "Kenshin, are you staying at Rakuninmura?" Her voice was apprehensive.

Kenshin swallowed. For some reason, he felt as he had got caught doing something bad. He nodded.

Her face melted into a look of shock. "You should have told me."

"Now, don't be so alarmed, young lady. He just arrived yesterday, and in pretty bad condition. By the way, how is it that you two know each other?"

"She saved him from drowning," Misao interjected. "She found him at a river, and dove in to get him out. Isn't that absolutely romantic?"

Kaoru flushed. "There's nothing romantic about saving a drowning person, Misao-chan." She turned to Kenshin. "I'm sorry. She tends to go off in her wild imagination."

The smaller girl with the braid was about to respond when the doorbell chimed again and three more people came in. Misao mumbled something under her breath and begrudgingly went about attending her customers, while Kenshin and Geezer moved to the side to let the customers order.

"Well, I'm going to the back of the kitchen for some day-old grub," announced Geezer, "I'll part some for you, Kenshin. You should, in the meantime, chat with Kaoru-san. Oh, and have her help you dig through the Free Box," he said, pointing at a wooden crate below a shelf. He walked off, leaving the two comely people staring at his retreating form.

Their eyes met. Kaoru smiled shyly at him, "Well, let's see what's in the box, shall we?"

Kenshin didn't reply, but nonetheless followed the young woman to a box situated below a shelf filled with books.

"It's all up for grabs. Dig through it. I'm sure you'll find at least one thing."

Kenshin shifted his eyes towards the box, and slowly descended on it. He rested on his knees as he dubiously rummaged through the box's contents. Shirts of all colors and in all conditions were in that box, many with holes or tears in them or suffering from discoloration. He wasn't sure what would fit him, nor cared much. He grabbed the next article that he found and pulled it up. It was a button-less, zipper-less sweater in a solid, very bold red. In lieu of its obscenely loud color, there was little damage done to the garment. The fabric was soft, and it seemed warm. It would do, he supposed.

"That's quite the color," said Kaoru, expressing what appeared to be amusement on her face. "It'll keep you warm for now, at least. Let's see," she bent down towards the box, and dug through it herself. "Oh, this is cute!" She looked up at Kenshin, who was watching her with curiosity. She held a white blouse in her hand. Kenshin raised an eyebrow. "Oh this if for me, don't worry," she replied upon grasping his apprehension towards the blouse. Her eyes went towards his feet. "We need to find you some shoes. Didn't see any in here… Oh…" She fished out a pair of brown sandals. "These aren't bad. They're a little better than those hospital clogs Megumi-san gave you. Try them on, see if they fit."

She extended the sandals towards Kenshin, which he took. With little difficulty, he replaced the clogs with the sandals. They fit perfectly.

"Do they fit?"

Kenshin nodded, unable to keep a corner of his mouth from tilting upwards.

"I'm glad. You'll have to find a pair of boots for the upcoming winter, though. And a coat. This one might do," she said, handing him a linty blue coat. He took that as well, and sneezed.

"Cat hair," said Kaoru, frowning at the item abundant with the fibers that had caused him to sneeze. "Are you allergic to cats?"

Kenshin didn't think so, so he shook his head.

Kaoru looked doubtful with that statement. "Maybe you should put that back and try to find another one next time you come here or elsewhere. You still have at least two months before it gets really cold."

He placed the jacket on her extended hand, and she tossed it back onto the crate. "Well, looks like there isn't much else in here." She rose, smoothing out her dress. "You should try that on," she indicated the sweater with a nod, "unless you want to walk around all day wrapped in that blanket. The bathrooms are down there, on your left. They're unisex, and tend to get pretty gross, I may add."

Kenshin followed the way Kaoru had pointed to, passing a few tables both occupied and empty. Off to the side, affixed to the wall was a glass case filled with records, tapes, discs, and videos of what he presumed were related to music, though he didn't stop to check closely. Another wall with a larger glass case displayed T-shirts, hoodies, and other items that had domestically made price tags. Behind that wall were the restrooms, two of them, the doors absent of signs or labels that specified that they were restrooms. The only indications that they were restrooms were the tabs on the doors that read either occupied or unoccupied, and the sweet stench of urine slipping through the cracks. He opened the one that said unoccupied, dreading what he would find. The pungent smell of urine intensified, and Kenshin reflexively gagged. He ceased to inhale through his nostrils, his mouth parting instinctively. The room was dimly lit, the walls painted grey and tagged with curse words, quotes, messages, and declarations from its previous occupants. Out of morbid curiosity, Kenshin inched towards the toilet, and scanned it. The previous occupant had left the seat up, and droplets of dried and fresh urine stained the rim of the bowl. The inside of the bowl was rusty and unclean. Kenshin quickly moved away from it, grimacing. There was no mirror in the bathroom. All the better. Kenshin dared not look at his reflection since the first time he had seen it upon the surface of the water that nearly claimed his life. He placed the blanket above the sink, and stared quizzically at the garment he had been sent to put on. He knew where the head was supposed to slip into, as well as the arms, that was obvious, but he did not know how to go about doing that. Was he supposed to slip in his head first, then the arms, or the arms and then the head. And which was the front, and which was the back? There were no visual characteristics to distinguish one side from the other, except for a label on the inside of the neckline that read contained information of that sweater.

Revolution 8. 100 % COTTON. MACHINE WASH COLD. MADE IN CHINA. SIZE: M.

He decided that the back was where the label was, and proceeded to slip his head through the neckline. Once that was accomplished, he slipped an arm into a sleeve, then the other arm into the other sleeve, which required him to bend his arm somewhat awkwardly. The bandages he still had on rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of the shirt, his wounds itching from the friction. He had contemplated shedding the bandages, but could not bring himself to do so. Although he would not be able to see his wounds in his back, leaving them exposed somehow made the absence of his wings that more painful.

Kaoru was speaking to her friend across the counter, who looked busy preparing something that involved an unfamiliar metallic machine.

"Kenshin," she said when he was within earshot, her eyes surveying his face, his torso, and then his face again. "That color looks good on you."

"Yeah it does," said Misao, placing a mug filled with a steaming beverage in front of Kaoru. "You'd think it'd clash with your hair since its red, but it actually looks really good on you."

Something odd rose up to his face. Heat. He believed he was doing what they called blushing.

Misao caught his embarrassment and giggled. Kaoru mashed her lips together as if to suppress something from slipping out of her mouth.

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I got you a vegan blueberry muffin. I doubt you're vegan but I got you one just in case," she said as she handed him the baked good that he hadn't noticed until then.

Reluctantly, Kenshin took it, a mixture of want and disgust wrenching his gut.

"Oh, is that not what you wanted? I'm sorry." She frowned, looking disappointed. On herself or him, he did not know.

Kenshin nodded vigorously. "No," he said, his voice coming out more forceful than he intended, "you have done nothing wrong. This one is unworthy of such kindness."

"Don't say that. No one is unworthy of kindness. Plus, you must be hungry. You've had to walk at least two hours to get here. Please take it, or trade it for another one if you don't like this kind."

"This one is not hungry, that he is not."

"Save it for later, then. And take that glass of orange juice right there, too," said Kaoru, nodding towards the mentioned beverage, taking the mug filled with dark liquid and muffin in each hand. "I already bought them so ya gotta eat 'em. Come on, let's find a place to sit."

When Kenshin didn't follow her, she looked back and said, "Come on, I'm hungry too, you know."

"H-hai," he replied, doing as she said.

"Yes, a booth is open!" she said, placing herself on a tattered seat by a window. She looked up at him expectantly. Reluctantly, he took a seat across from her, somewhat relieved to be sitting down. The shoes the kind doctor had given him were not meant for walking long distances for long periods of time.

"So, how are you feeling?" Kaoru asked him in an affable tone before taking a sip of the dark muddy liquid.

Kenshin stared. Her eyes were so blue, like the blue of the skies of his home. Kenshin looked away and at the civilians passing by. They did not notice him as they went about their way. Some walked in pairs, laughing or in conversation with the other. Most were alone, their faces expressionless, or talked into a device he recognized as a recent invention called a cellular phone.

"You know," Kaoru started, "I'm really glad to see you again."

Kenshin redirected his gaze to her, his mouth parting.

Her cheeks were flushed, the color of rose petals. "After you left, I regretted not inviting you over for dinner. I don't get much company. I'm alone most of the time. I'd be nice to have more company."

She had a timid bearing, different from the confident girl who had ordered him to follow him only moments earlier, her shoulders tense and her chin tilted slightly downward. Humility was something that existed only within humans. Angels exhibited nothing less than reverence in all they did.

"How are your wounds? Have you been doing what Megumi-san advised you to do?"

No, he hadn't been. Somewhere during his journey toward Rakuninmura, he had lost the medication he had been given, and had not thought about treating the cursed wounds since. He didn't much care what happened to him.

Kaoru somehow perceived his negligence, because she sighed and said, "You probably think it's none of my business, and maybe you're right, but if you don't treat them you may get an infection."

To spare himself from speaking, Kenshin took a sip of the orange juice. It was citrusy and sweet, running smoothly down his throat. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he quaffed the entire thing down. Not as good as elixir, but still refreshing for his mortal tongue.

"Hey, I mean it! You need to take care of yourself, even if you live in Rakuninmura. You-"

She stopped herself, her face softening. "Gomen nasai. It's not my place to tell you what to do. It's just that it'd be a shame if something bad happened to you again, after what you already went through."

Her eyes held his for a moment before shyly shifting to the surface of the table. This was the girl who had swum formidable tides to rescue him and spent time and money out of concern for his health, and he wasn't doing anything to secure her efforts. It was unfair to Kaoru.

"No, it is this unworthy one who is sorry. You're right in being angry with me."

Her face seemed to soften. "I'm not angry with you. Just worried."

"You are worried about this one?"

Kaoru fiddled with a stray lock of hair. "Well, yeah…" She ceased the mug and drank from it, her eyes veering out the window, the blue in her eyes brightening as the sun hit them. A subtle hue of brown reflected from her hair, and once again he could see the imperfections of humans that, aside from the wings and the glow of their skin, separated them from the angels.

But even with all her physical imperfections, she really was a lovely human. He had seen many beautiful mortals throughout the ages, of every kind of species, human and non-human, but none had made him feel like how he was feeling now, light enough to float away.

Or maybe it was his empty stomach

"Hey, that sweater suits you well, Kenshin." Geezer's voice startled both of them, for each jerked at the sound of his voice. "Did Kaoru pick that out for ya?"

Kenshin shook his head.

"Well, it looks good. And so does that muffin. You haven't eaten a bite out of it yet."

Kenshin's stomach affirmed it with a growl, and without further thought Kenshin grabbed the baked good and chomped down on it eagerly, moaning in delight as his taste buds were assailed with the tangy sweetness of blueberries.

"That hit the spot," said Geezer, amusement in his voice. "You won't find better blueberry muffins for miles."

Aware of Kaoru's presence, Kenshin ate as civilly as he could.

"Have you eaten yet, Geezer-san?" Kaoru asked. She had made room for Geezer, sitting closer to the window.

Geezer remained on his feet, nodding. "I had the same thing our hungry friend over here in the kitchen. I hate to interrupt your meal, Kenshin," added Geezer, "but I'd like a word with you outside."

Perplexed, Kenshin abstained from taking another bite and followed Geezer outside. Kaoru watched them leave with curiosity.

The temperature had risen slightly, or maybe it was the garment he now wore that provided some warmth. The stale sourness of the air was sharper now that he had the aromas of the café to compare it to. The air wasn't as clean as it had been during his last visit, nearly three centuries ago.

"Well, Kenshin," said Geezer, his upper lip hidden by the white whiskers of his mustache. "This is where we part ways."

"Why must we part ways?"

"Because you don't belong in Rakuninmura, and I do."

"I don't understand."

"Rakuninmura is a place where only those with light fully extinguished from their eyes permanently stay, and only a transitory residence for those who are still searching for their place in this world, for there is still hope in them. I cannot leave any; they are my children. But they can leave Rakunimura. And you Kenshin, you must leave. There is still a glimmer of light in your eyes. I saw it blaze when you saw Kaoru. In the short amount of time I've known you, I've never seen you look so alive."

"But, I have nowhere to go."

"Nonsense. This is vast planet. Small compared to the rest of the universe and to realms existing in other dimensions, but for you it is big enough. You'll find a place, I'm sure of it."

"I have no place in this world."

"My boy, you have much to offer. You're not fated to fail. I am certain we'll meet again. And when we do, you'll have found your place."

"What should I do?"

"You can start by going in there and finishing the rest of your muffin with Kaoru-san. She likes your company."

"I doubt that."

Something thwacked Kenshin on his head. Geezer held a folded paper article of sorts, presumably a newspaper, the weapon he had leashed out on him with. Startled, Kenshin could do nothing but stare.

"Don't be so blind! If you don't believe me, go back in there and verify it yourself. Now, I must be heading back. But before I do, know this: You can still redeem yourself. Until next time, Kenshin!"

Geezer had taken only few steps before a radiant glow blossomed and absorbed him, disappearing just as soon as it had materialized. Recognizing what had just happened; Kenshin's body began to tremble. It was the light of his home, he knew it was, and Geezer had been carried off as if he were an angel.

Kenshin sucked in his breath.

_An angel._

"Are you alright?"

His heart already accelerated, it nearly came to a great halt at the sound of Kaoru's voice. He had been startled far too many times today that he wondered if he could handle it.

"Kenshin, what's wrong?" Kaoru walked towards the sideway, looking at all directions. "Where's Geezer? I saw him pass by the window alone, and wondered where you had gone. What happened? Did you two have an argument? You look pretty riled up."

Kenshin shook his head, and breathed in air the way he had seen overly stimulated humans do to calm their bodies.

_You can still redeem yourself_.

But how? No fallen one had ever been granted entry back into Paradise. None. But, an angel did not lie. They defied orders sometimes, or bent the truth, but never outright spoke a lie. And Geezer had been a Guardian Angel, he was certain of that, the benevolent kind that looked after humans who needed the most aid. Unfortunately, even when they watched over their charge, they could not stop fate. Nobody, not even the angels, knew the mortals' fate, including their own.

"Kenshin?"

"We had no argument. We merely parted ways."

"Parted ways? What do you mean parted ways?"

"He is to go back to Rakunimura, and I elsewhere."

"You're not going back to Rakunimura?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"I do not belong in Rakunimura."

Her eyes studied him, and finally she said, "I see. Where will you go, then?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Correct."

A pause. Then shyly, she said, "Come to my home, while you figure things out. There is a spare bedroom for you to rest in. I live alone, so it'll be good to have some company for a change."

"I-I mustn't…"

"But why?" Pink rose up her face. "Hey, now, don't get the wrong idea. I'm inviting you as a friend. I have no ulterior motives, got that?"

"No such thought crossed my mind. I simply do not wish to be a burden"

"Baka. I wouldn't be asking you if I thought that."

"You don't know who I am."

"I know that Geezer took a liking to you, and Geezer is a great judge of character. I know that you've been hurt, and not just physically. I know that you have a past that you don't want to about, and that's okay. We all have things in our past we don't want to talk about.

This human. She was as pure and kind as they came, a rare breed of human, an angel. No, better than an angel. She was beautiful in every way, and he did not deserve to share the same roof with her, as much as he wanted to. But the thought of parting ways with her a second time was unbearable compared to the first time, when it had merely been an unhappy occurrence.

"Just a sec," she said, hastily opening the door. From the threshold she yelled, "Goodbye Misao-chan, we're leaving."

From the inside, presumably from her post, Misao replied, "'We?' You mean with Kenshin?"

"Yes."

A delighted squeal rung out as Kaoru let the door shut behind her. "Alright, let's get going," she said, a determined stride moving her forward

He hesitated. His feet did not move. She paused mid-step and looked back at him, her lips puckering in a frown. "Hayaku!"

"H-hai," he said, and followed her.


	5. Lust

Warning: Smutty, but not quite what you think. Trust me on this.

Also, the avatar art for this story is titled Sins of an Idealist by deviantartist vswingv

* * *

Her hands were gentle as they applied a cool and stinging balm on his wounds. She used a cotton swab to dab on the concoction, smoothing it cautiously over the wounds which, to her surprise, had mostly healed.

"You must have a very good immune system," she said, over his shoulder, her breath ghosting across the skin on his back, causing his skin to break out in goose bumps. "Or that stuff Megumi gave you must really work well. Or both. Your wounds look much better than they did just two days ago. It's mostly just scar tissue now. It's incredible."

At first, he did not want her to touch him, with a cotton swab, her hand or anything that was on her hand. He was unworthy of her care, and did not want her to be corrupted by his touch.

Not after what had transpired in the bathtub.

Upon arriving to her home, she had set a pot of water to boil so he could bathe because, as she put it, she had no running hot water.

"I won't make you shower before taking a bath," she said, "It's too cold."

He recalled that the people of this country typically showered before bathing, for it is considered unsanitary to bathe before rinsing the filth off one's body first. Kaoru didn't seem to mind.

She had prepared his water, handed him a clean towel and fresh soap, and directed him to the bathroom, where he caught his reflection in the mirror. Mercy, he looked awful. A wild tangle of red hair framed his pale face, as unruly as seaweed. Dark crescents circled the bottom of his eyes, and his cheeks were stained with dirt. The red sweater he had on was the only thing clean about him. He shrugged it off, discarded it on the ground. He stared at himself again, at the filthy bandages wrapping his chest and back. He supposed he had to take those off, too. Slowly, he began to unravel them, winding them around and around until they fell loose on the ground and his chest was exposed. He stared at himself, his eyes wide and frightened. Seeing himself without wings was like seeing someone else, someone human. He did look human, didn't he? But he wasn't human, not quite. Fallen angels were something in between human and angel, or rather, something outside of that completely. They were mortal, but lived a long time. Some still had otherworldly aspects about them, such as great strength, speed, and the ability to heal faster than humans. Slowly, he turned, aiming his back towards the mirror, and looked over his shoulder.

For the first time, Kenshin looked at his wounds. Two vertical, pink streaks glared at him, shiny and smooth like the inside of a conch shell. He ran his fingers over one of the scars. It was bumpy yet smooth. He shivered, jerking his hand back, as if he'd just touched needles. He turned away from the mirror completely, as if to erase the existence of those scars, but the image of those wretched things was already engraved in his mind.

He stood for a while, staring at the wall, breathing hard. He had caught a glimpse of himself reflected on the window glass of a store he passed on his way to Rough Times Café, and concentrated very hard on not looking again as he passed more buildings. But this was different. He had seen himself more vividly in this mirror, every fault of his form, and at the scars that now replaced what had once been his beloved wings. His throat felt dry, as if he had just swallowed sand, and his body, as did his mind, felt drained. He wanted to lie down again, just lie down, and stay lying down as long as he could…

But…

Kaoru-dono was waiting for him.

The water would get cool if he continued to stand around, and so he shed the last piece of clothing he had on, and let the warm water envelope him from the neck down. This was a completely different experience from the last time he had been in water, and he felt another wave of gratetitude for Kaoru pass over him. If she had not rescued him from drowning, he would have been falling down for eternity in the pits of hell. He hadn't known he'd been drowning, then, hadn't known until he was on land and coughing out water from his mouth. He would have died without ever knowing how he did. Could God have really allowed him to die? No, if his Creator really had wanted him dead, he would have dead already. And besides, Geezer, or whatever his real name was, said that he still had a chance in redeeming himself. The question was how he would.

He closed his eyes, and saw her face the way he had when she first came into his view, and when she first smiled kindly at him, and when he saw her again for the second time, and…

Something stroked his chest, trailing from his solar plexus to his midriff, leaving sparks in his skin. He jumped, eyes snapping open. Sitting at the edge of the bathtub with her legs hanging over the tile floor, was Kaoru, grinning at him coquettishly and wrapped only in a bathrobe that exposed much of her cleavage. Her hair was loose and cascading over her shoulders, her flesh pink with the heat of the steam.

His voice caught in his throat.

"Do you mind if I joined you, Kenshin?"

He swallowed hard. She looked so beautiful, so enticing, so... not her. At least, not the Kaoru he had learned to recognize. The sweetness of her face, the sporadic shyness in her demeanor, was gone. The coy smile that played on her lips belied the ardent blaze in her eyes, full of desire for him, for the act that came naturally for all mammals, and that no angel, fallen or not, should ever engage in. As if out of his own volition, the appendage between his thighs began to swell with blood, and he gasped at its unexpectedness. He had seen countless humans, from the modestly dressed to the fully disrobed, those whom their respective society deemed attractive and those universally deemed undesirable, of every sexuality and gender and race and every single type of human that ever existed. Never had one in any manner of dress or form elicited this physical reaction out of him. Never.

Without knowing how, he managed to articulate: "K-Kaoru-dono! What are you doing?"

Kaoru giggled. "I thought maybe you needed some help getting scrubbed," she said, brandishing a bar of soap.

He didn't know why she was acting this way, but it must be because, all humans, no matter how chaste or pure they were, stripped down to their minimum, they were all carnal creatures. Even so:

"You mustn't be in here. This is improper…"

As she leaned in closer to him, the smell of jasmine, the smell he quickly came to associate her with, was absent. In its stead was the smell of incense, like burned chips of fragrant wood. Not unpleasant, but not a smell designed for her.

"Don't be so modest," she said, her hands working on the sash that tied the garment close. "You're my guest. I'm just being courteous."

The sash came undone, and she pulled the edges of her bathrobe open and

He looked away. He pressed his forehead against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut as his heartbeat thudded in his ears. As forward as she was acting, he could not bear to look at her body with licentiousness. In contradiction to his mind, his body was still alert with her presence, throbbing for her.

He balled his fists as he heard a light splash of water, followed by the sensation of smooth skin grazing his own.

"Kenshin," purred Kaoru, saying his name in a way that made him groan with a mix of frustration and desire. "Please. I want you, Kenshin."

Fingers stroked his leg, traveling higher and higher and higher…

His hand caught hers. "No," he responded, his eyes still shut, voice husky and strained, "We mustn't."

She giggled, in such a way that was almost sadistic. "Then I'll just have to use my mouth." She began to lower down, her hair fanning out in the water as her head submerged.

"Kaoru," he said, feeling his will about to break, the blood in his veins thundering with a ferocity that shook him from the inside and out. He had to stop her, but her hands were already gripping him and it felt so good to be held that way.

A knock came at the door, and he jumped, the movement causing Kaoru to surge out before she could follow through on her intent.

"Kenshin?" It was Kaoru's voice, and it sounded like it was coming from the other side of the door. But how could she be there when she was right here in this bathtub. "Sorry to interrupt you, but I thought I should mention that I left some clothes out for you in the room you'll be staying at."

Slowly, he turned and saw Kaoru where he thought she'd be, in front of him. A vexed expression was on her face as she looked at the direction of the door.

"Kaoru-dono?" He asked her incredulously.

"Yes?" replied the voice from the other side. It was Kaoru's voice, but the Kaoru that he could see had not moved her lips. Like a snake shedding its skin, Kaoru's body began to ripple and peel away, another woman's head appearing, then her torso, and then the rest of her as her disguise melted away.

Before him was a beautiful and fully nude woman with wavy burgundy hair that fell over one voluptuous breast, the other exposed and wet, its rosy nipple erect. Her lips, stained with a venomous green, curled disdainfully, the beauty mark upon the bottom left corner of her lips shifting with the gesture. Her beauty was as sharp and cruel as handcrafted sword. The smell of burned incense became stronger, now laced with the particular, pungent odor of demons.

Kenshin drew back, the water splashing violently around him.

"Kenshin?" Repeated Kaoru, the _real _Kaoru, from the other side of the door. She sounded concerned.

The demon's head whipped towards the direction of the voice, her brows drawn together in mild vexation as she shook her head, "Wretched girl. You just had to interfere."

Kenshin stood up, not caring that this woman, this _demon_, saw him nude. "Kaoru-dono," said Kenshin, trying to keep the rising fear from coloring voice. Not fear for himself, but for her. If the demon tried to harm her, Kenshin was not sure if he could stop her, although he would try. A fallen angel was physically strong, but against a demon of this caliber, for her aura was that of a higher demon, the chances of him winning were slim His eyes remained on the demon who now looked at him with an amused twinkle in the indigo pools of her eyes. "Thank you for your kindness. I will be out shortly."

Somehow, he could sense that Kaoru relaxed, and heard her tone become upbeat, "Great. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," he said again. Her footsteps became fainter as she retreated.

"My, my, looks like someone has a crush," said the demonness.

Stepping out of the bathtub, he stood as far from the demon as possible. "Demon, why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here because I want you." She moved closer to him, her hips swinging in a way that would make any man- mortal, demon, or a fallen angel- succumb to their enchantment. Her hands roved over her own body, stroking the curve of her breasts, over the rosy buds, the inverted dip of her waist, and then to the area right above that sensitive female organ.

"I would never engage in such a vile act with an infernal creature," said Kenshin, moving another direction to keep her at a distance. He was repulsed by the idea of her, yet once again he felt heat rush over his body out of its own volition, his organ threatening to rise. He tried not to look at her, his eyes warring with him to keep them on anything but her.

"But you would if I were human? You certainly looked like you wanted to fuck me when you thought I was that human girl, and," said the demon, her voice a seductive promise, "It certainly looks like it now."

Suddenly, she was on him, pinning his shoulders against the wall. Kenshin led out a gasp as at the force of her strength, the closeness of her. He wanted this woman off him, despite the throbbing pleasure. Lasciviousness rolled off her in waves, encompassing his flesh in horribly electrifying burns. With a force he didn't know he possessed, he pushed her away, sending her gliding inches away. She did not lose her equilibrium, only stared at him with eyes alighted with hellfire.

"Asmodeus," he breathed, identifying the carnality of its nature. But, he reminded himself, Asmodeus was male.

"The one you speak of is no more. I consumed him and took his place as the demon of Lust. You may call me Yumi."

Kenshin was disbelieving. "You _consumed_ him?"

Self-satisfaction lit her face. "His powers, rather. He is nothing but a dry husk of an insect, now. The boys sometimes like to use him as an armchair. But we're digressing," she said, walking towards him again. Just as before, her form began to undulate and transform, shifting back into the shape of the woman that had saved his life, that made his heart dance every time he saw her in his thoughts or in person. Right now, it was not his heart that was reacting.

"Is this better? I know how much you admire this petite, insignificant thing. Why that is, is beyond me. But if this is what you want, this is what you shall have."

Tremors ran through him as her body molded against his, the moisture of hers brushing against the stiffening hardness of him. A moan erupted from his throat as he felt her hand stroke him.

"You like that don't, you? Of course you do. You are a fallen angel. It is in your nature to crave flesh, be that of a human or demon. That is how many of your kin fell, and how you will fall once again."

The fallen angel shut his eyes, and returned to the chasm he had been cast into. Once again, he saw the spirits of the damned coiling and recoiling all about him, their tormented cries echoing into nothingness as he plunged further and further into eternity. He saw the light and even lovelier, he saw Kaoru's face, smiling at him, the smell of jasmine and sweat and earth permeating his soul.

"No." He opened his eyes, the vision dissolving from his mind, and ceased the wanton hand. "It is not in _my_ nature. I do not want you, demon. Be gone!"

With that one last word, she was blown away, flying up into the ceiling. She hissed at him from above, her limbs and back attached to the ceiling like an extended spider.

"Very well, fallen one. I cannot force you into entering me, for it would not be lust from your part. But I assure you, this will not be the last time you see me, feel me. I will be there every time you are around that girl, whenever you catch a glimpse of her bosom, see the shape of her bottom and length of her legs. You want her. In your deepest desires, you want to take her and ravish her and plant your seed, creating an abomination worse than a demon. A Nephilim. Try as much as you will, you will succumb to her flesh, and her to yours, and I will be watching the entire time with pleasure."

She vanished.

"All done," announced Kaoru, setting the last hook in the bandage in place. She came around him to inspect her work. "Looks good. Megumi taught me well."

Kenshin slipped on the shirt Kaoru had lent him, the size being a bit snug on him but comfortable. Thanks to the prior one-time experience with western-style clothing, Kenshin had less of a struggle putting on the clothes Kaoru had laid out for him on the bed, clothes that to his chagrin belonged to her personally. The T-shirt was weathered and soft and smelled like soap and freshness and the distinctive, clean scent of Kaoru, pacifying his nerves as he inhaled its scent while putting it on, and then admonished himself for taking such pleasure in sniffing her personal belongings like a heated dog, especially after that disgusting incident in the bathroom, except that it was not desire that he felt. The scent oddly calmed him, and that baffled Kenshin profoundly. About the T-shirt, however… In front of the T-shirt was a helmeted, black-clad figure standing in a defiant posing behind a red background, the words "Who's Your Daddy?" printed at the bottom of the shirt. Kenshin contemplated why in heavens Kaoru would wear such a shirt. The sweat pants, as Kaoru had referred to them, were very similar to the pants Sanosuke had lent him, only exponentially cleaner and a better fit.

"You know," said Kaoru, scanning him up and down, "The nerd look really suits you. You kind of look like a nerd metalhead with that long hair. Are you either, or both?"

A nerd, he recalled, was pejorative term used for someone deemed to be overly intellectual and generally unpopular with people, along with other certain characteristics pertaining to the person who that term is applied to. Based on some of the observations he had made about this subcultural group, he supposed that the style of clothing he currently wore would be suited for a nerd, and if so did that mean, since they belonged to Kaoru, she was a nerd, or was it him that attributed to the nerd…ness? And what was a metalhead? It did not sound like pleasant person.

"I'm neither," he responded, not being able to identify with either.

Kaoru laughed. "Well, I wasn't sure if you liked Star Wars or not, but since red looks good on you I thought you should wear it again. That is," she said, color rising to her cheeks, "If you want something else to wear, I can dig up another T-shirt that is less nerdy, though not by much."

Unable to help himself, Kenshin smiled at her, and the smile she returned to him made him forget about everything except her, the kindness of her and all that was her. And then he remembered that he had lusted after her body, or the model of her body, rather, and felt shame crash into him like a torrent of rocks as he looked away. Before he could resume on pondering the unfortunate and revolting incident, a sizzling noise erupted from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Oh, crap, the soup!" exclaimed Kaoru, rushing to the source of the noise. At the sound of her yell, Kenshin leaped onto his feet, thinking that something horrible had happened to Kaoru, that the demon of Lust, Yumi, had reappeared and hurt her, and if not that wretched demonness then another infernal abhorrence.

"Kaoru-dono," he called out, nearly sliding into a nearby chair as his feet glided over the slippery surface.

He found her holding her forearm under running water in the sink.

"I'm alright," she said, "just dumb."

"What happened?"

"I lifted the lid and the steam burned my arm It's no big deal. Nothing a little ice and time won't solve."

"May I take a look?"

She held out her wrist to him, and he cupped it on his palm. A patch of red was streaked across the length of her forearm, a very superficial burn.

"See? Nothing serious" she said, her voice almost imperceptibly unsteady. He looked up at her, their eyes locking. They were very close. They had been closer, but that was when he had been injured, and now it was he who wanted to treat her.

"Do you have a clean rag?"

Kaoru pulled open a drawer behind her, walked over to the rectangular box humans called a refrigerator, pulled out a rectangle full of ice cubes, tapped them against the counter until some broke loose, and wrapped a few ice cubes into the towel, placing it atop her burn and at once giving him an amiable look that read, "I appreciate the intent, but I can take care of myself."

"Well, I suppose the soup is ready. Would you mind serving us each a bowl of soup and rice? The bowls are right here."

Kenshin nodded and, using the ladle next to the stove, stirred the concoction emitting smells that made his nose itchy and want to sneeze, which it did. He was grateful for picking up on human manners and health concerns that taught him to sneeze into his sleeve and not the food.

"I think I may have added a little too much spice," Kaoru said, frowning at the pot.

"I'm sure it will be delicious," he responded, uncertain of whether or not that would be true, so in sense lying to her.

Misshapen lumps of unidentifiable organic material plopped into the bowls like dead aquatic life in a red sea, and the rice he served looked more like rice pudding than sticky rice.

Kenshin's appetite suddenly evaporated.

He set the table, placing the bowls, one full with rice and the other full with the lumpy soup called miso, on a place mat across from each other, and the pot of tea in the middle, hoping that the way he laid them out was satisfactory.

"You forgot these," said Kaoru, placing eating utensils beside each bowl.

They sat, grabbed a utensil called a chirrienge, and proceeded each to sample of soup Kaoru had so kindly prepared for them, and then choked in the process.

Indisputably the worst thing he had ever tasted, Kenshin coughed uncontrollably as the bitter soup raked its way down his throat. Kaoru was also coughing, though hers died down once she took a sip of the tea before. Following her example, Kenshin did the same, and wailed out in pain as the liquid scalded his tongue.

"Oh, no," said Kaoru, getting up from her seat and disappearing into the kitchen before reappearing with a glass of water in her hand that she handed over to him. He snatched it and quaffed it down as if the water came from the heavenly fountains. "I should have warned you, but I was really hoping today wouldn't be so bad. I'm sorry Kenshin."

The coughing having receded, Kenshin noticed the look of disappointment and self-deprecation in Kaoru's expression and no longer minded that he had nearly hurled out his lungs.

"There's nothing you need to apologize for, Kaoru-dono," Kenshin said, wiping the tears that had sprung up from his eyes.

"My cooking is terrible," she said, slumping down onto a chair, "I just have to accept it."

Kenshin sat on the chair next to her, using a consolatory tone, "I'm certain that with practice, it will improve…"

"I have practiced every day since my father died. I'd have practiced more while he was alive but he banned me from the kitchen."

Kenshin wondered what other culinary monstrosities Kaoru had created to have earned that restriction by her own flesh and blood. Regardless, he did not like seeing her so disheartened. Disregarding the prohibition to lie, for he no longer was an angel, he said, "It wasn't so bad."

She looked at him dead in the eyes. "You're lying."

"You're right, I am. Even so, you must not give up. You will improve someday, that you will."

"We'll see," she said, unmotivated. Her eyes then widened, and turned to him, "Can you cook?"

Kenshin shook his head, regretful. "I'm afraid not."

She sighed, her enthusiasm deflated. "That's too bad."

"I have never attempted it."

She side glanced at him. "Cook?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

"How come?"

"There was never any need for it."

She looked at him contemplatively, her mind churning with possibilities of why he never needed to cook, all of which he was certain were not because he had been an angel.

"You should learn, and then you could teach me," she said, sounding half-serious.

The corner of his mouth tilted. Perhaps, he would. "Kaoru-dono."

"Yes, Kenshin?"

"Thank you."

Kaoru looked bewildered. "You're thanking me?"

"Yes. For dinner, and for providing me with a place to stay for the time being."

The lines in her brow softened at his words. "Stay as long as you like. I only ask for a few conditions."

"Yes?"

"Help out with chores, learn how to cook, no drugs and alcohol unless it's medicinal, and never leave your dirty laundry out where I can see it."

Kenshin nodded. "As you wish."

The excitement on her face was unreserved as she exclaimed, "Westley!"

"Pardon?"

Her face collapsed into a frown. "Oh, I guess you've never seen it."

"Seen what?"

"Never mind. Sigh. I was about to dork about that movie with you."

"Oro? Dork-out?"

Kaoru looked at him, and began to laugh.

"Oro?" He said again. "What do you find so funny?" He asked with confusion.

"It's just that… The way you said that. It was… Well, it was kind of cute."

Firstly, Kenshin only realized then he had said "oro," having no idea where it came and how it came to be in his lexicon. And secondly…

"You found it cute?"

Her face started to brighten with red, fidgeting with her hands. "Yes, well, it's just that…" Kaoru laughed nervously, "Never mind."

Kenshin just blinked at her, still confused, and that seemed to make her laugh again. He liked how she laughed, light but not high, heartfelt but not throaty. It was contagious, and so he laughed with her, and it would be the first of many laughs they would have together.

* * *

Free Talk: From the number of reviews I had, I didn't think this story had many readers. Then I checked the traffic status of each chapter by the month, and I was blown away from the number of people who are reading it. Thanks guys. I'll keep at it. I have a Beta now and free time on my hands, so I'll be updating faster.


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